


Drunken Confessions

by KittyKatBella



Category: Captain Underpants Series - Dav Pilkey
Genre: Alcohol, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 16:25:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18102158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyKatBella/pseuds/KittyKatBella
Summary: For the prompt "Drunken Confessions"





	1. Drunken Confessions

Harold giggled, hanging off of George’s side as they stumbled outside. The bar was still filled with music and dancing, but it was past midnight and George had been getting tired. George pulled the earplugs out of his ears and stuffed them in his pocket.

“You drank too much,” he said to Harold.

“I did _not_ ,” Harold slurred, poking George’s cheek. “I’m _fine_.” George rolled his eyes and smiled, guiding his friend to the ground.

“Well, just sit down, ok? The uber should be here any minute now.” George wrapped an arm around his friend as he leaned into his side. Harold hummed an off-key tune, playing with George’s tie. “There was a cute boy eyeing you in there. I think he liked you.”

“ _Pssssh_.” Harold waved it off. “I don’ want a cute boy.”

“Weren’t you always saying you wanted to meet someone in college?”

“I was _lyyyying_ ,” Harold sang, draping himself across George’s lap. He batted at his tie. “I already got a cute boy. _The_ cute boy.”

“Thanks, Harold. But I thought you wanted to find a _boyfriend_ ,” George clarified, curling his fingers in Harold’s hair. This wasn’t an unfamiliar situation to either of them, but George still felt that same tug at his stomach.

Harold sighed, wrapping an arm around George’s shoulder and pulling himself up a bit. “You’re _useless_ , George. Useless gay.” He adjusted his position so he was straddling George’s lap, now both of his arms wrapped around his neck. “ _You’re_ the cute boy. I like _youuuu_.”

George felt his heart stop. No way.

“Y-you’re drunk,” he said.

“Mmmmm.” Harold nodded, leaning in to press kisses along the other’s chin. George closed his eyes and bit his lip. This couldn’t be real. Could it? The universe wasn’t this nice. “‘M not _that_ drunk…”

George’s head was swimming. Maybe that was the alcohol. Or maybe that was _his best friend kissing him and getting dangerously close to his lips and how did this happen, good things like this didn’t happen-_

And then Harold was kissing him, full-on, and for the first time in his life George didn’t _think_ anything. His mind was _blank_. He couldn’t remember his mind ever being blank. But he wouldn’t mind it _always_ being blank if he could lose himself in this feeling from now on.

George held Harold’s face, kissing him back. His breath hitched and he curled one hand in his hair. George didn’t think he could ever get tired of this feeling. He groaned when Harold bit down on his lip. Oh yeah, there’s no way he could get tired of this-

A car horn honked loudly, causing both boys to jump and pull apart. “Hey, man!” Harold slurred, glaring at the driver.

“I’m the uber!” The man told them. “Do ya still want a ride or what?”

George’s face burned as he pulled Harold up. “Yeah. Sorry man.”

The two of them climbed into the car’s backseat, Harold curling up against George’s chest and halfway on his lap. He trailed more kisses along his chin. George smiled sheepishly at the driver eyeing them in the rearview mirror. “Heh- l-later, Harold, ok?”

“Awww, no fair,” Harold whined. George pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“Later, I promise.”

“Mm, you better,” Harold mumbled, laying his head on George’s chest and closing his eyes. George leaned his head back against the seat, running a hand through Harold’s hair. This was definitely not where he saw the night going.

But he wasn’t complaining, either.


	2. Sober Confessions

Harold woke up with a throbbing hangover. Which wasn’t too unexpected, considering they were at the bar late last night, but it didn’t make it any more enjoyable. He sat up slowly, rubbing at his head and wincing. George stirred beside him, and it took Harold a moment to realize they had been spooning again.

 _Something_ squeezed at his heart. As much as he loved cuddling with his best friend, there was that  _something_ in him that wished it could be more than platonic.

What had happened last night, anyways? He couldn’t remember much past... a few drinks in. There was a lot of lights and music somewhere in there, and then sitting outside, but that was it. The more he tried to focus on it though, the more his head throbbed, so he stopped trying.

He slowly pulled himself out of bed, giving George one last soft look, before stumbling to the kitchen part of the dorm room. He splashed water on his face and looked up at the mirror they had hung above the sink. He squinted at the dark spots on his skin, then felt where they were on his neck and shoulder. Hickies.

He could vaguely remember making out with _someone_ , but there wasn’t a face there. He couldn’t remember it going much further than that, either. Well, he _was_ drunk at a gay bar. Hooking up with a (hopefully) cute boy wasn’t too unexpected, right?

He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and sat at the table, swallowing the pill and rubbing at his forehead. He tried again to think about last night. What had happened?

He looked up when he heard George wake up, and saw him sitting in bed and rubbing at his eyes. “Morning.”

“Hey,” George answered quietly, avoiding eye contact. Harold frowned slightly. Was George acting weird, or was it just his hangover?

“What’s up, man? How’d you sleep?”

“Uh- good. Yeah, alright.” George glanced around for his shirt, and Harold saw that he had dark spots on his neck and shoulders too. That same _something_ from before swirled jealousy in his stomach. It was stupid. George had the right to hook up with whoever he wanted.

It didn’t do much to quell that feeling, though.

“Cool. Cool.” Harold nodded, drinking more of his water. “That’s chill. You must have had fun last night, huh?” He smiled a bit and nodded at the hickies.

“...Harold, how much do you remember from last night?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out right now.” He chuckled slightly. George’s face fell and he tugged his shirt on over his head.

“Right. Of course. You drank a lot...”

“...do you know what happened?” Harold asked. “You’re acting kind of weird.”

“No I’m not,” George lied.

“George. Come on man, I know you-”

“You really don’t remember _anything_ from last night?” George blurted, looking tense and scared.

“Well, I remember _some_ stuff- sitting outside after the bar, and I’m pretty sure I hooked up with someone,” Harold motioned at his hickies, “but I can’t picture a face, so. Why? What happened?”

“...nothing.” George’s face fell into disappointment and he turned away. “You were drunk. It didn’t-”

“George.” Harold said sternly, frowning slightly. “ _What happened?_ ”

“...you said you liked me.” Harold’s face lit up like a flame. Oh, fuck. _Fuck._ “And we made out.”

“ _We-?!_ ” They made out?! And Harold’s brain didn’t even have the decency to let him _remember_ it?! Harold buried his burning face in his hands. “George, I-I’m so sorry-”

“Did you mean it?” George asked softly. Harold’s hands were getting hot just from holding his face. “Harold?”

A pause. He nodded.

George laughed, and Harold looked up only for George to grab his face and kiss him. Could Harold’s face _get_ any hotter?! “Oh thank god. I was scared you...” He was crying. George was _crying._ And grinning. And Harold was confused.

“I-I didn’t want to ruin our friendship-”

George laughed through the tears. “Nei-neither did I.”

“You liked me too?”

“I have for awhile. I was scared you didn’t feel the same way.”

Harold grinned, wrapping his arms around George’s neck and pulling him down. He kissed him hard, and George let out another bubble of laughter and straddled his lap to kiss him back.

And then the headache returned, and Harold winced and rubbed at his forehead. “I still have a hangover. I-I’m sorry-”

“That’s fine. That’s just fine.” George kissed him lightly again and stood up. Harold whined internally. “I-I do too. Um- this is- I should get some water.”

“Yeah. Ibuprofen’s in the cupboard-”

“Yeah.” George nodded and got a water bottle and a pill before sitting back down at the table across from Harold. He smiled softly, holding his water bottle and looking down at the table.

“So.” He spoke after a few minutes, when his head wasn’t throbbing so hard. “Does this make us boyfriends?”

“There’s nothing I’d love more, Mr. Beard.”

George grinned. “Then I guess we’re boyfriends, Mr. Hutchins.” 


End file.
